


Case Closed

by CocoCrazyFangirl17



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Depression, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocoCrazyFangirl17/pseuds/CocoCrazyFangirl17
Summary: Chan is suffering from an abusive relationship at the hands of his girlfriend, Kim Jinbi. His flatmates are all deeply concerned about him, yet aren't sure what they can do to help. Will they manage to get him out before it's too late?
Relationships: Lee Chan | Dino & Everyone
Comments: 11
Kudos: 87





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an AU, meaning SEVENTEEN aren't an idol group.
> 
> The boys are all living in the same flat, but are split into groups across the floors, e.g. 95 line live together, Chinaline live together, etc.
> 
> There will be no romantic ships. This story will focus on SEVENTEEN's brotherhood and familial relationship with one another.
> 
> There will be physical, emotional and psychological abuse showcased throughout this story, and it will be done so graphically. As well as this, there will also be depictions of depression. If you feel uncomfortable by any of the following, please tread carefully or don't read at all.
> 
> This topic is something that I'm really passionate about. Male abuse victims seldom get the support and respect they deserve in society, especially when it's at the hands of a female perpetrator, and I'm really hoping that will change in the years to come.
> 
> That all being said, I hope you all enjoy my story. 🥰

It was 6:00 PM on an average Wednesday night. The moon was shining brightly, reflecting off the window of the Pledis Apartment Complex.

Lee Chan, a twenty year old college dropout, was keeping himself occupied by washing the dishes. He was the only one in the flat at the time, which, from an outside glance, looked dark and unfriendly, but was ultimately still well-kept.

As Chan continued to leisurely washed the dishes, he hummed under his breath as he did so, only for the door to suddenly click open. This caused him to look up in alarm and immediately stop what he was doing. He walked into the main hall to greet who was standing there.

Kim Jinbi. His girlfriend of 2 years.

“H-hey, jagiya,” Chan greeted, trying not to sound too nervous. “How-how was your day?”

“It was alright; not too bad,” Jinbi responded, putting her coat away. “How was yours?”

Pleasantly surprised at the fact that she’s actually asking about him for once, Chan answered with a slightly cheerier, “Um, it was pretty good, actually. I got a lot done.”

With a satisfied nod, Jinbi walked into the kitchen, before suddenly stopping dead. Chan followed her, confused and slightly worried now.

“J-jagiya, what’s wrong? What is it?” he asked.

There was nothing. Then, Jinbi calmly spoke. “You didn’t make my dinner.”

Chan’s eyes widen as he realised what this meant. “U-uh . . . I . . .”

“Why didn’t you make my dinner?” Jinbi asked, her voice still eerily calm.

“U-um,” Chan pathetically stumbled, “i-if you just listen to me, I—”

Chan was cut off by a harsh slap to the face, the harsh sound of palm against skin resounding around the empty apartment. He immediately faced the ground, resisting the urge to hold his now throbbing cheek.

“I asked you a question,” Jinbi stated, her voice now ice-cold. “Why haven’t you made my dinner?”

“I-I, um . . .” Chan stuttered, trying to keep his voice from wavering, “I-I f-for—”

Before he can finish, his girlfriend slapped him again on the same cheek. Chan let out a little whimper of despair.

“Stop blubbering and answer me,” Jinbi snapped, beginning to grow tired of him.

Sniffing, while trying not to cry, Chan answered, “I-I forgot. I-I got t-too caught up i-in my work that I f-forgot.”

“What use is that to me?” Jinbi scoffed. “Huh? What type of boyfriend are you? What type of boyfriend forgets to make dinner for his own girlfriend? A shitty one - that’s what you are.”

“I-I was trying to make sure the house was clean, alright?” Chan lightly protested. He felt a right to defend himself; it’s not like he was lounging around the entire day doing nothing.

In response to Chan’s sudden act of defiance, Jinbi grabbed his wrist and twisted it firmly, causing him to cry out in shock and pain.

“Don’t you _ever_ talk back to me,” she growled, causing Chan down at his feet, feeling his eyes begin to well up with tears.

“Look at me.” Jinbi’s sharp demand was what forced Chan blink rapidly, in order to get rid of as many tears as he possibly could, before slowly lifting his head to face his abuser.

“P-please let go,” he requested meekly. “I-it hurts.”

“Don’t you _dare_ cry. You let out _one_ tear and I will break your arm, you hear me?” Jinbi warned, her voice cold and venomous. “ _One_ tear, and your arm is _snapped_.”

Chan sniffed repeatedly in order to stop the tears. As cruel test of character, his girlfriend tightened her grip and twisted his arm a bit more, causing him to let out another cry of pain. However, Chan successfully managed to hold in his tears – even if it did mean they bubbled desperately around his eyes – and maintained eye contact with his abuser.

Jinbi nodded in triumph and satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.” She roughly let go of Chan’s arm, shoving it away from her. “Now hurry up and make me some bulgogi.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Chan nodded with a reluctant, “Of-of course, jagiya.”

With that, his girlfriend left the room. Chan looked down at his arm, which now had nasty black and blue fingerprints all over the wrist. His tears fell onto the bruises as he sobbed, openly but quietly, turning back to the kitchen in defeat to make his girlfriend what she wanted.


	2. Two

It didn’t always used to be like that. 

She wasn’t always that abusive.

Their relationship started out wonderfully, as most relationships do.

Chan had initially met Jinbi through a circle of friends. One of his friends - not too close, but close enough - invited him to a party that Jinbi happened to be attending.

Kim Jinbi was 22, Daegu born and raised, and was very passionate about law. Chan thought she was stunning, but was initially intimidated by her. Why would a strong, confident woman like her be interested in an insignificant, unremarkable guy like him?

Against all odds, Jinbi greeted Chan that night, much to his shock. The two spent the majority of the party together, and ended up exchanging numbers by the end of the night.

Chan was surprised by how often Jinbi would text him. It finally felt like someone genuinely wanted him around and wanted to be with him. This newfound boost in confidence is what then prompted Chan to ask Jinbi out, to which she happily accepted. Shortly afterwards, the two made it official.

Chan felt truly happy when he was with Jinbi. She would always compliment him at every turn and make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Every date they had was amazing, every kiss they shared was wonderful and the time in general the two spent together was all good and nice.

Then everything stopped being amazing. It stopped being wonderful. It stopped being all good and nice.

One day, six months after they started dating, Jinbi and Chan got into an argument. 

It’s not like the couple hadn’t gotten into arguments before, but this time was different; Chan could sense it: Jinbi was angrier, the fight went on for longer and Chan felt weaker when up against her. 

The argument was about who was supposed to do the dishes that night. Chan felt that it was Jinbi’s turn, only for Jinbi to accuse him of lying and thus commenced the fight.

Chan would’ve written this fight off as another petty argument, if it wasn’t for what Jinbi said to him next:

“ _You fucking useless idiot_.”

To say Chan was floored by this was an understatement. Jinbi had never, _ever_ sworn at him or called him names before, not any other time they argued, not even playfully. This insult began to eat up at his already low self-esteem, and this is what made Jinbi realise that she could use this to control Chan. So, from then on, insults, jabs and jibes became a staple in their relationship, where it initially wasn’t even thought about.

Jinbi had verbally attacked Chan in the past, sure. But the attacks had always been just that - verbal.

Well . . . that _was_ until tonight.

That was the first time that Jinbi had properly laid a hand on Chan with the intent to hurt him. He didn’t even realise she was capable of that.

 _She was probably just in a bad mood_ , Chan kept mentally reassuring himself. _She won’t do that to you again_.

Oh, how _wrong_ he was.


	3. Three

It was 11:31 PM when Chan’s bedroom door was knocked on. Since he was halfway to falling asleep, he did _not_ appreciate being woken up, to say the least. “Come in,” he mumbled groggily.

The door clicked open and in walked Jinbi, holding one hand behind her back and looking slightly sheepish. Chan managed to sit up, now fully wide awake, as the air in the room suddenly became uncomfortable.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted with a lopsided smile. “I just wanted to apologise for hitting you earlier.”

Chan was pleasantly surprised by this. If he was being honest, he wasn’t expecting an apology at all.

“I got you these.” Jinbi took her hand out from behind her back, revealing a bag of _Doritos: Nacho Cheese_ \- Chan’s favourite flavour. “Obviously, you should probably wait until tomorrow to eat them,” she added with a chuckle. This almost caused Chan to chuckle too.

“I’ve just been so stressed with all my coursework lately,” Jinbi explained. “Plus, my boss is really pissing me off, and I just . . .” She trailed off, before shaking her head. “I know it’s no excuse for what I did, but—”

“No,” Chan stopped her. “It’s okay. I get it.”

He gave her a smile, letting her know all is forgiven. Jinbi returned her boyfriend’s smile, pleased by this, before going to join Chan on his bed. She brought the younger male in for a hug, stroking his hair as he leaned into her, happy that the conflict seemed to be resolved.

There was a silence as the couple sat on the bed in an embrace. It was a comfortable silence though, and Chan found himself beginning to doze off again.

“Although I said I’m sorry, “Jinbi began softly, “I hope you realise that I wouldn’t have _had_ to hit you if you had just done what I had asked in the first place and made me dinner.”

Chan immediately stiffened up in Jinbi’s arms. He thought everything was good, why wouldn’t she just let bygones be bygones?

“So maybe if you just do what I ask, when I ask you to do it, I won’t feel the need to punish you,” Jinbi continued, still with the soft tone of voice. The contrast between her tone and her words deeply unsettled Chan, but he didn’t know why.

“O-okay,” he mumbled. Jinbi smiled again and pulled Chan even closer to her in a gesture that at first made Chan feel safe, but now was just making him uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you gonna say you’re sorry?” she asked. Chan resisted the urge to sigh, before looking up at his girlfriend with a forced smile.

“I’m sorry, jagiya.”

“You’re forgiven, baby,” Jinbi beamed, giving Chan a kiss on the forehead before jumping up. “I’ll leave you to sleep now.”

She walked over to the door and opened it to leave, but turned back to her boyfriend before she could do so. “Good night, Chan,” Jinbi said, sounding earnest. “Sleep well.”

“Night,” Chan answered, before turning over in his bed. As he was trying to get comfortable, he heard his bedroom door click closed, allowing him to let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding.

How does she do that to him? Make him hang up on her every last word? Leave him anxious as he waited for the end of each of her sentences, to see if she would bark at him or insult him?

Chan had no idea, but he knew one thing: he did not like it _one_ bit.


	4. Four

Pledis Apartment Complex was a fairly new building, having only been established in 2015. However, despite it being new, it had a fairly nice block of flats, which had already successfully housed a multitude of people.

Chan wished he was lucky enough to snag a flat on the ground floor, but alas, he wasn’t. However, he decided that the second floor flat wasn’t too bad; plus, the elevator was opposite his door, which made taking up groceries a dream.

His flat - number 2-11 - was modest and average-sized, but was adequate since Chan lived alone. There was a kitchen as you walked in, with the living room being on the opposite side. Down the hallway was his bedroom, which was Chan’s favourite room, no doubt. Next to the bedroom was a bathroom, which was again, average-sized, but big enough when you take into account the fact that the flat only had one person. Finally, opposite the bathroom was a guest bedroom, which was used in so much scarcity that Chan considered turning it into a gaming room, but he knew Jinbi wouldn’t like that.

Was it lonely most of the time? Absolutely. But Chan tried to convince himself that he was good on his own and he didn’t need anyone else and it was fine, Jinbi comes over practically everyday anyway so what’s the big deal, you baby?

It was a couple of days after the fight, and Chan had just finished having a shower. He was planning on planting his ass in front of the TV and catching up on his favourite anime, when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Chan looked up in confusion. Jinbi never told him she was planning on coming over. Granted, she _did_ like to make surprise visits from time to time, but still. With a sigh, Chan got up and reluctantly walked over to the door - whatever bullshit Jinbi had in store for him, he was _not_ prepared for.

So it was to his complete and utter surprise that he opened the door and, opposite it, stood _Jun_ , of all people, holding a bunch of paper bags in his arms. Jun was one of the few foreign inhabitants of the PAC - his full name was Wen Junhui, being natively Chinese - and lived in the flat two floors above Chan. He shared his flat with Xu Minghao, another Chinese man, and was known around the block for his generally upbeat and carefree personality.

“Heyo!” Jun chirped with a bright smile.

“Hyung? What are you doing here?” Chan asked, more confused if anything. He seldom interacted with any of his flatmates, so was perplexed as to why Jun was randomly dropping in on him like this.

“Well, I was out shopping for lunch, and y’know how I pass your flat on the way up to mine, so I figured I’d take a detour and share my lunch with you!” Jun responded, still with the cheery tone.

“O-oh,” Chan mumbled. He wasn’t used to having guests around - Jinbi forbade it - and he knew if his girlfriend was to find out, he would _definitely_ be in for it. “Uh, hyung, you know that’s not really necessa—”

“Great!” And with that said, Jun practically charged into Chan’s flat, before the younger male could protest.

“Now where do you keep your pots and pans?” Jun asked, putting down all the groceries on the table.

“Next to the oven,” Chan answered, pointing to the cupboard beside said oven. With a quick, “Ah!” Jun knelt down to grab all the equipment he needed in order to make lunch, as Chan just watched him, almost in fascination. _No need to ask him to make himself at home_ , he thought.

“Y’know, Chan-ah, I feel like we don’t talk as often as we should,” Jun said, as he was sifting through all the different equipment he needed. “How’ve you been? What’s been going on with you the past few weeks, huh?”

“Oh, well, um . . .” Chan stumbled; he wasn’t used to talking about himself. “I’ve been pretty good as of late. Um, I’m struggling to find a job, but, y’know, mustn't grumble.”

“I hear that!” Jun agreed. “Do you know how _difficult_ it is working in retail when all the customers you come across are insufferable simpletons who complain about the most mundane of problems that could’ve been fixed if they had just looked at the bottom of the label on their product?”

Chan was taken aback by this sudden rant. Honestly, he didn’t really know what to say other than, “Ummm . . . no, not really.”

“Well it’s fucking difficult, I’ll tell you that much!” Jun turned back to Chan with a knowing grin, before turning back to place a huge pot on the kitchen counter. Chan didn’t even know he _had_ that pot.

“Which is why I decided to quit and help out at the local daycare centre,” Jun continued, turning back to Chan. “Utensils?”

“Top drawer to your right,” Chan swiftly answered. Jun mouthed a ‘thank you’, before going through said drawer to pick out what he needed.

“Uh, local daycare centre, you said?” Chan asked. He was actually quite fond of this conversation and so wanted to keep it going for as long as possible.

“Yep!” Jun confirmed. “Seungkwan works there as the head supervisor, and so was able to get me a job there too.” He began to lay out all the equipment on the island in front of him. “I was so grateful for that, ‘cause I love children so much, so any chance to make their day is a win in my books.”

Chan just nodded. All this talk about Jun’s life was taking his mind off of how uneventful his own life was, so he really didn’t mind the older male's ongoing rambling.

“So what type of noodles do you prefer? Thin or thick?” Jun asked, turning to the 99-liner with two noodle packets.

Chan just shrugged. “I really don’t mi—”

“Thick it is, then!” Jun grinned, and as he turned back to the pot, Chan couldn’t help but notice just how undeniably _excited_ Jun was to make lunch for him, almost as though it had been a while since he had ever made lunch for someone other than his flatmate. His eagerness almost made Chan smile. Almost.

“I’ve realised I’ve gone on one of my tangents again,” Jun said as he prepared the noodles. “I’m sorry, I’ve got such a big mouth.”

“It’s honestly okay, hyung,” Chan reassured.

“Well, at least now you know _that_ about me - if you let me talk long enough, I _will_ talk for China!” Jun said, laughing a bit at his little joke. His laugh was so contagious, even Chan couldn’t resist letting a little titter out of his mouth.

“So other than job-hunting, what else is going on with you?” Jun asked once more, now beginning to start on the broth.

Chan didn’t really know what else to say to Jun, other than mention his girlfriend. It wasn’t really that big of a deal; he could just talk about, while conveniently leaving out all the . . . _other_ stuff she does to him.

“I, um . . . I have a girlfriend now,” Chan mumbled.

“You have a what?”

“I have a girlfriend now,” Chan repeated, loud enough so Jun could actually hear.

“Wow, really? Congratulations!” Jun smiled, and Chan could hear the genuinity in his voice. “How long have you guys been together?”

“Uh, a year and 10 months.”

“Ooh, look at you, with your own girlfriend!” Jun teased, while stirring the broth. “You’re a little man, you are!”

“Sh-shut up, hyung,” Chan retorted in embarrassment, but he was smiling now. Jun had a contagious energy about him that was carefree and bright. It was actually quite difficult not to smile when in his presence. The older Chinese man only gave him a cheeky wink, before adding a flavour sachet to the pot of boiling water.

Chan watched Jun work, his smile slightly widening. He didn’t realise it, but he was actually really happy that Jun stopped by his flat. The fact that Jun just spontaneously decided to drop in warmed Chan’s heart and he felt touched that Jun spared him any thought, especially since they weren’t even technically friends, just two guys living in the same flat. Why he hadn’t properly learnt about his Chinese hyung before this was beyond him.

“I hope you don’t mind, Chan-ah, but I’m gonna add some spice to the broth,” Jun announced. “Now, I like my spice, but I don’t know about your heat tolerance, so let me know what you . . . like . . .”

At this point, Jun turned back to Chan and he found himself unable to speak once he saw the ghastly bruises all over Chan’s wrist. The bruises were pink and yellow, meaning that they weren’t fresh. Jun couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Chan got those bruises. A part of him didn’t want to find out.

Chan eventually clocked on to the fact that Jun had stopped rambling and so looked up at his Chinese hyung to see what the problem was. Only . . . Jun wasn’t looking at him. Chan followed his eyes and realised that Jun was looking at his arm. The same arm that Jinbi twisted a couple days before.

With an awkward clearing of his throat, Chan rolled down his sleeve, concealing the bruise, before throwing his bruised arm under the table and out of Jun’s sight. “So how long until the noodles are cooked?” he asked brightly, desperately to change the subject.

After another second of staring, Jun snapped out of it and answered Chan with a stilted, “Uh, another five minutes.”

Chan only hummed in response and the air went silent between the two men, the only sound being the noodles steadily boiling in the pot.

“What happened?” Jun’s quiet inquiry was what broke the silence.

“Huh?” Chan asked, genuinely oblivious, before he made sense of what Jun was probably asking him. “Oh, you mean my arm. Uh . . .”

“You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable,” Jun said earnestly. His happy-go-lucky, childlike persona was long gone now, having been replaced with a concerned, parental one.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Chan reassured. “I, uh . . .”

As Chan desperately tried to think of an excuse, he cursed himself on why he didn’t just shut down the conversation - Jun had practically given him an _invitation_ to!

“It was a wire!” Chan finally said. “Yeah. Um, I was trying to figure out how to work my Wi-Fi router, but then my arm got caught in the wires. So yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Jun asked, and Chan knew that, from the tone of his voice, the Chinese male was _not_ convinced of his tall tale.

“Why would I lie, hyung?”

“It was a wire?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Interesting wire . . .” Jun muttered after a pause, before forcing him to push that thought aside and continue focusing on the lunch behind him.

-:-

“. . . so while it’s definitely still a work in progress, Mingyu and I think that our project should be done by October of next year,” Minghao explained, only Jun seemingly wasn’t paying attention to him, only looking straight ahead.

“Maybe, if we work _really_ quickly, it’ll be out by next summer,” Minghao continued.

Still no response.

“And then, a giant meteor fell from the sky and killed everyone,” Minghao added sarcastically. Finally, Jun seemed to come back down to earth, with a blink and a, “Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“I can tell!” Minghao snarked, causing Jun to chuckle weakly, before it quickly faltered. He just could not get that image of Chan’s bruises out of his head, nor the alarm on Chan’s face when asked about them. He desperately wanted to know where he got them from, even if that meant prying into Chan’s private life.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen the Devil,” Minghao asked, noticing his friend was zoning out yet again.

“If I saw something that I thought was concerning, you’d want me to tell you, right?” Jun suddenly blurted. Minghao was taken aback by this sudden question from his friend, especially since it was rare that Jun was ever _this_ serious.

“Define ‘concerning’,” Minghao responded slowly; he wanted to know exactly what it was Jun was talking about.

“I went to Chan’s flat for lunch today,” Jun explained, “and I saw these really nasty bruises all over his wrist.”

“Well, did he tell you how he got those bruises?”

“Yes; he told me his arm got caught in a wire,”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe him, it’s just that . . .” Jun hesitated for a moment before continuing, “my gut is telling me that something seems fishy about this.”

“I don’t know, Jun, maybe you’re just being paranoid,” Minghao suggested. “I mean, why would Chan have any reason to lie to you? You don’t even know each other that well.”

“I guess you’re right . . .” the Shenzhen-born male mumbled. He didn’t actually think Minghao was right; he just wanted to drop the conversation as it was now beginning to bug him.

“So, anyway, what were you saying about this project of yours?” he went on to ask, eager to change the subject.

“Oh, _now_ you decide to listen to me!” Minghao joked, before properly indulging in all the things he said before.

As Jun listened intently to his excited friend’s story, he desperately tried to blot out the image of Chan and push him to the back of his mind.

 _Maybe it_ was _just nothing_ , he thought.


	5. Five

_Ding!_

The microwave was the only noise that rang through Chan’s empty apartment. Walking over to it, he took out his readymade meal of pasta and sat down on the couch to eat it.

Chan ate slowly, monotonously. The more bites he took of his meal, the more he realised he didn’t like it and the more he came to miss Jun’s phenomenal cooking the other day. Part of him wanted to call the Chinese man and invite him over for dinner, but Chan quickly reminded himself that that was a stupid idea, because even if he wanted to, he didn’t have Jun’s number.

So there he was. Stuck eating some bog-standard pasta meal for no other reason than because it was the only thing in the fridge that looked somewhat desirable. He desperately wanted something to happen, for someone to visit him, to take him out of this mundane cycle of chewing and cringing and swallowing.

Chan longed for conversation. He longed for human contact. He longed for spending hours on the phone talking about anime or girls or whatever stupid thing that was on his mind at that moment.

Chan longed . . . for a _friend_.

-:-

The doorbell ringing was what stopped Chan from completely dozing off on the couch. With a sleepy groan, he moved to get off the couch . . . and promptly fell off of it.

 _My life really_ is _like a sitcom_ , he thought to himself irritably, before forcing himself up off the floor and onto his feet. He walked slowly over to the front of the house, hoping and praying that the person at the door wasn’t Jinbi. He just wanted one day, _one_ day without her.

Turning the key in the lock, Chan opened the door and there stood a very handsome man with dark hair, big almond eyes and _great_ cheekbones. From what he remembered, this man’s name was Jeonghan.

“Hello!” Jeonghan greeted with a cheery smile. “You’re Chan, right?”

“Uh huh,” Chan answered simply. “And you’re . . . Jeonghan?”

“That’s my name; don’t wear it out!” Jeonghan practically sang, before letting himself in. Chan didn’t even stop him. At this point, he was used to having people barge into his house unannounced.

“How’ve you been, Chan? I feel like I should be doing a better job at communicating with everyone in this flat, so I wanna know how you’re doing!” Jeonghan made himself comfortable on Chan’s couch as he looked up at Chan expectantly.

“I’ve been alright, I guess,” Chan answered; he still wasn’t entirely used to talking about himself.

“Good! Great to hear!” Jeonghan nodded with a smile, before his eyes went to the kitchen table, where the opened box that Chan’s readymade pasta came in was sitting. Upon seeing the box, Jeonghan’s smile turned into a cringe. 

“Ugh. I’ve had one of those ready-made meals before,” he lamented. “They are _so_ gross - in my opinion, SteadiFast should be banned from the industry!”

“Tell me about it,” Chan agreed, happy that the topic was no longer on himself. “It started off good, but then the more I ate, the worse it tasted.”

“Exactly! That’s how they trick you!” Chan couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. He didn’t think he and Jeonghan would be brought together by something as unusual and niche as a terrible ready-made-meal experience.

There was a short silence between the two of them, but any silence as far as Chan was concerned was absolutely deafening.

“Um, so why are you here, hyung?” Chan asked, before immediately backtracking with, “It’s not that I don’t want you here! Be-because I do! Honestly! I-I just wanna know what-what possessed you to come over?”

Jeonghan only threw his head back with a laugh, a laugh that sounded like audio equivalent of honey. Was it even _possible_ for a man to be so unfairly handsome?

“It’s okay, I get it,” he said with a good-natured grin. “I sorta just barged into your home; I don’t blame you for being so curious.”

Chan just nodded with a grateful smile, thankful that Jeonghan didn’t take what he said the wrong way. He had become more paranoid of that ever since Jinbi became his girlfriend.

“Basically, I’m here because Jihoon’s having a party tomorrow night, to celebrate his 23rd birthday,” Jeonghan explained. “You should come! We’re inviting all of his closest friends.”

“But, hyung, me and Jihoon don’t even know each other that well,” Chan argued. “We’re barely _acquaintances_.”

“Which is precisely why you should go!” Jeonghan countered. “Jihoon’s usually very introverted; do you know how hard it was to convince him to throw this party?”

“As hard as it would be for _any_ introvert who doesn’t like parties.”

“Exactly! So come along and make friends with him and make it so he doesn’t regret his decision!”

“I really don’t know, hyung. I have a lot of work to do tonight.”

“That’s what the weekend is for!” Jeonghan’s cheeky nature was slowly beginning to sway Chan, but he was too proud to admit it. Not to mention, Jinbi hated him going out anywhere that wasn’t with her, and if she found out about this party, things would _not_ be looking good for Chan.

“I don’t think it’s gonna happen,” the younger male said. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

Chan was surprised to see Jeonghan’s smile fade once he heard this. “Okay. That’s fine,” he responded, though Chan couldn’t ignore the obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Just do me a favour.”

“What?”

Jeonghan gave a piece of paper turned down. Turning it upright, Chan saw it was a flyer advertising Jihoon’s party. It was pretty flashy, with bright colours, along with all the basic information on there, such as date, time, etc.

“Just . . . consider it,” Jeonghan said. “Okay?”

“Sure,” Chan automatically answered. At this point, he just wanted Jeonghan to leave.

“Wait, give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“So you can call my number if you need to, silly!” With a shrug, Chan gave the 95-liner the phone and Jeonghan promptly punched his number in, before giving the phone back to its owner.

“There we go.” With a small smile, Jeonghan turned to leave. “Take care, Chan-ah!”

The door clicked closed, and Chan looked down at the flyer again. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to go to Jihoon’s party, because he really, truly did.

-:-

“I expect to come home to a nice meal and you forget - _again_!” Jinbi snapped in yet another argument with Chan. He was really beginning to get tired of it all.

“I’m sorry, jagiya, I really am!” Chan apologised for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

“You’re not though, because you _keep on doing it_!”

“Jagiya, you don’t understand! I have so much on my plate already - cooking for you only adds one more thing!” Chan argued.

There was a silence as Jinbi took in what Chan had just said to her. Then she uttered a positively furious, “ _Are you saying I’m a burden to you_?”

Chan’s eyes widened in fear as he realised that he’s pushed her too far. “N-no—”

Before he could properly finish, Chan was met with a punch to the nose. He stumbled backwards into the table, but before he could do anything else, he was kicked in the gut. His girlfriend continued to ruthlessly kick him and punch him as he repeatedly cried out for her to stop. At one point, Chan managed to push her off him; he had terrified tears streaming down his face and he was on his knees with his hands together, almost like a prayer. Essentially, he had reduced himself to begging for his life.

“ _Please_ , I’m _begging_ you, jagiya!” he sobbed. “Don’t hit me; don’t hit me - _please don’t hit me_!”

Jinbi watched her boyfriend for a moment, who was crying uncontrollably, unable to stop the endless flow of tears. She then knelt down and grabbed his chin, forcing his face up to look at her.

“What kind of man are you? _Huh_ ?” she spat. “You can’t even defend yourself against a girl - you’re _pathetic_.”

She shoved his chin away rough as Chan whimpered in defeat. “Now go and make me something to eat,” she demanded.

“J-j-jagi, I can’t!” Chan weakly protested. “I g-gotta go to a—”

He cut himself off as quickly as he started to speak, realising how Jinbi would react. Sure enough, Jinbi grabbed his chin again, now fired back up.

“Oh, so you’ve been making plans without my permission, huh?” Jinbi growled, as Chan desperately shook his head.

“I-I-I’m sorry, but he’s my flatmate and he really wanted me to go to this party, so I—”

“So, you had better call this flatmate of yours and tell him that you’re really sorry, but unfortunately, something came up last minute and you can’t go to the party, hadn’t you?” Jinbi said, her tone sickly sweet.

There was a silence as the two maintained eye contact, before the abused boy broke it off in defeat.

“. . . Yes, jagiya,” Chan obediently agreed, causing slimy grin to appear across his abuser’s face. She chucked his phone at his face, causing him to yelp out in surprise and pain, before he caught it in his hands.

With his girlfriend intently watching, the 99-liner could do nothing but call Jeonghan’s number and wait, praying that he’d pick up.

“Hello?” Chan bit back a sigh of relief once he heard Jeonghan’s warm voice on the other line. “It’s me,” he said quietly.

“Chan! Hey!” Jeonghan cheered. “Where are you? The party’s just about to start.”

“Hyung, I’m really sorry, but unfortunately, something came up last minute and I can’t go to the party,” Chan said, reciting what Jinbi said to him word for word.

“Huh?” Jeonghan initially asked, weirded out by the monotonous, almost _scripted_ , response over the phone, before catching himself and answering with, “Oh. Um, okay. Maybe another time, then?”

“Sure,” Chan said shortly, before hanging up.

“I—” Jeonghan was about to speak, only for the line to cut off. “Hello? Hello?”

With a shrug, he pocketed his phone, before going back to preparing for the party.

Chan slowly lowered the phone, trying his best to choke back tears as he was engulfed in a cuddle by his girlfriend.

“Good boy,” Jinbi cooed, stroking Chan’s hair in a motherly fashion. “You don’t need them anyway. I’m the only person you need to spend time with, right?”

“Yes. Of course, you are,” Chan answered, trying his best to smile for her. “I’m sorry. I’ll make you some bibimbap.”

“You know _just_ what I like,” Jinbi beamed, giving Chan a tender kiss on his busted lips. “I love you.”

With that said, she got up and left the room to have her shower, leaving Chan laying on the floor, surrounded by his own blood, sweat and tears.

“I . . . love you too.”


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the lack of updates recently. I have the basic outline for the rest of the story, but it's just difficult separating them into their respective chapters. Thank you to everyone who's still supporting this story and for being patient with me; I really appreciate the continued support.

“No, sorry, I’m sick. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I will. Okay, bye.”

That was the line Chan had recited for the last three phone calls.

Ever since his no-show at Jihoon’s birthday party, Chan has pretty much been on house arrest since, by request of Jinbi. 

Chan had seen all the social media posts about Jihoon’s party and it looked like a total blast - games, music, fun and just twenty-something year olds being twenty-something year olds. He had really missed out.

So the fact that he had missed out on an opportunity to be _someone_ , paired with the fact that the only other human he had had interaction with was Jinbi made Chan very bitter and irritable, though he tried his best not to show it, lest it gave him another beating.

Later that evening, Chan went into the kitchen to make himself a light dinner - he was feeling a simple grilled cheese. As he began to cook, Jinbi strolled into the kitchen as well.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. Chan just nodded, continuing to cook.

Jinbi cleared her throat, before saying, “Uh, I said hey, baby’.”

“I heard you the first time Jinbi,” Chan said.

“Then why did you not respond?”

“I didn’t feel I needed to.”

“Well, I don’t feel like I need to brush my teeth every morning, but it’s just the right thing to do,” Jinbi argued. Chan could hear the growing hostility in her voice. “You should make an effort to address your significant other whenever they enter or leave a room.”

“It’s really not that serious,” Chan shrugged, before going back to focusing on his cooking.

Jinbi raised an amused, but pissed, eyebrow. “It’s not?”

“No, it’s not, so just lay off me for once, okay?” Chan sighed. He hadn’t meant to sound so snappy, but he just was in a shitty mood that day and Jinbi’s constant verbal prodding made it worse.

“I just want to focus on my dinner, so please don’t bother me,” Chan continued, in as polite a tone as he could muster.

Jinbi looked as though she was about to reply, when, suddenly, she stopped. Her head dropped to the floor. Then, she slowly looked up again, and Chan saw that she was now crying, much to his surprise.

“Chan . . .” she sobbed. “Do you . . . do you _hate_ me?”

“What? No, of course I don’t, Jinbi!” Chan immediately denied, now feeling guilt for his earlier attitude.

“Be-because you wouldn’t act like this unless you enjoy seeing me suffer!” Jinbi continued to cry, tears streaming down her face.

“Jinbi? Jinbi, look, I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry,” Chan said, walking out of the kitchen to take his girlfriend’s hands in his.

He did not expect his girlfriend to rip her hand out of his grasp and instead dig her claw-like, pink acrylic nails into his chest, causing him to cry out in shock, agony and pain.

“J-Jinbi, st-stop! It hurts!” Chan cried.

“That’s the idea, asshole,” Jinbi grinned, smiling at him through her tears, tears which Chan was only just realising were fake.

“J-Jinbi! Please stop!” Chan begged. Jinbi hummed in consideration, before digging her nails even deeper into his chest, which made his screams heighten.

“A-AGH!” Chan yelled out, feeling his shirt begin to seep up with blood. 

“Say you’re sorry,” Jinbi ordered. “ _Five_ times.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_!” Chan sobbed. “Now please stop!”

Jinbi only shook her head sadistically and began to twist her nails, causing Chan to cry out even more. If she wasn’t careful, Jinbi would surely hit a bone or a major artery at this point.

At that point, the door was meekly knocked on, causing both Jinbi and Chan to snap their heads towards the door. 

“Uh, Chan?” came a quiet voice. Chan wasn’t really sure who it was; he still wasn’t familiar with all the people in the flat. Jinbi slowly took her nails out of Chan’s chest - causing him to groan in pain - now intrigued by the person who came to visit them.

“It’s Vernon,” the voice identified. “I-I heard that you were sick today, so I decided to help you out by getting you some groceries.”

“R-really?” the aforementioned boy croaked. He really hoped Vernon didn’t pick up on the lump in his throat. “Y-you really didn’t have to do that.”

“I-I know, but I wanted to.” Chan sensed that Vernon sounded a bit nervous. Was it possible that he had listened to what had happened before?

“I’ll just leave these outside for you.” There was a silence, the crinkling of plastic bags being the only sound heard in that moment.

“Uh, have a good one, Chan,” Vernon said. “See you around.”

There was another silence as Vernon’s footsteps slowly got further and further away until they couldn’t be heard anymore.

The second Vernon was gone, Jinbi turned back to Chan with a venomous glare in her eye.

“Are you happy now, Chan?” she hissed. “Vernon probably heard your pathetic screaming and now thinks the worst of both me _and_ you!”

Chan swallowed, trying to ignore the burning feeling in his chest. “I-I’m sorr—”

“Don’t apologise.” Jinbi turned her nose up at her boyfriend, as though he was nothing more than a piece of shit on the bottom of her shoe. “You’ve done enough.”

And before Chan could do or say anything else, Jinbi stormed off to her room, making sure to slam the door extra loudly behind her.

-:-

Vernon walked aimlessly back to his flat. To say he was shaken by what he had heard was an understatement. It sounded like something one would hear out of a soap opera, and _not_ the funny kind.

 _I hope Chan’s okay_ , he thought to himself, as he finally arrived at his flat. 

Just as he went to turn the key in the door, Vernon stopped. That itching feeling in his stomach, which had been plaguing him since he left Chan’s flat, hadn’t gone away. It almost felt like he was being slowly eaten up from the inside out.

Could his hunch be right? Could Chan be in more danger than initially perceived?

Vernon didn’t know for sure, so he did the one thing he knew how - he took out his phone and called the number of somebody who could always trust, somebody who always knew the answer, somebody who was like an older brother to him.

“Hello, hyung?” Vernon said once the line was picked up. “I think I heard something really bad and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Meet me at my flat; we’ll discuss it there,” the man on the other line responded.

Vernon wasted no time finding the nearest elevator. He really needed someone to talk to.

“Thanks, Seungcheol.”


End file.
